


pull me out from inside

by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch



Series: Tumblr Stuff [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coda, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch/pseuds/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch
Summary: I accepted the first five minutes of 15x20 as canon and started from there.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Tumblr Stuff [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/555322
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	pull me out from inside

**Author's Note:**

> This will have three parts and I hope to finish it over the weeked, no promises though. Unbeta'd. Rating may change. 
> 
> Title taken from [Colorblind by Counting Crows](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0s7ycdUcHk), which has been running on repeat in my head for the last days for some reason.

When all is said and done, he sleeps for a day and a half. Sam works his way through a pile of laundry that reaches up to his armpits, before he gathers the nerve to make the call.

Dean watches over Sam’s shoulder when Eileen picks up. He watches from the war room table when Sam opens the door for her. Waves hello and slinks back in his room to give them space.

He goes through the motions.

Dean cleans each and every weapon they possess.

He dusts off the shelves in the library, reorganizes the books.

He cooks.

He does the dishes, feeds a few scraps to Miracle.

He dries the last of the plates when the pressure in the rooms shifts.

“Anything on Cas?” he asks, before turning around. The question has been asked quite a few times by now.

“No,” Jack says, the single word conveying a myriad of regrets. It’s the same answer Dean got before, the same tone.

Dean schools his features and turns around. Plasters on a brittle smile. “It’s not your fault, kid.”

Jack doesn’t seem convinced – _he’s gotten the self-doubt from me_ , Dean thinks almost fondly – but he smiles back.

The deal Cas struck with the Empty is binding, Jack explained to Dean right after he became the new God – Dean’s still wrapping his head around that fact –, when Dean raged and cried and begged. _It’s like_ _a law of nature,_ _Dean,_ _even_ _I_ _can’t break that deal_.

Over the sound of the shower, they hear Sam actually _giggle_ , a sound Dean’s not gotten used to by now, either. A moment later, Eileen, wrapped in a large towel, sneaks into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water and the plate laden with eggs and toast Dean left for them.

The flush of her cheeks isn’t just from the hot shower. Jack and Dean share an awkward smile with her. “Thanks for this,” she mumbles, before slipping back out of the room, already taking a bite of toast on the way. Dean’s glad for them, he really is. He’ll have to live with the pang in his chest that goes along with it.

“They seem happy.” Jack observes, his smile turning benevolent. Some moments, Dean sees the confused kid in him, others – like now – he’s suddenly aware of how _different_ Jack really is. Powerful. All-knowing. It doesn’t scare him anymore. They taught Jack all they had to teach him, and now they have to have faith that it was enough.

“I wanted to make everything right,” Jack says, holding eye-contact just long enough for Dean to catch his meaning, his apology. It’s not necessary, but it’s appreciated. “I failed.”

Dean wipes his already dry hands again, throws the towel into the sink, goes over, claps Jack on the back. “You did good.”

And it’s true. Everyone they lost through Chuck’s little game of wipe-the-board had come back. Dean had been on the phone constantly over the last week. _Are you okay? What happened? And what about Cas?_ _–_ Charlie, Donna, Bobby, Jody, a constant stream of concerned, well-meaning questions, and he’s thankful to have people that ask them, he is, but it also drains him.

And of course, knowing him so well, they heard it in his voice how much it cost him to be chipper. _Just call if you need anything – anything, I mean it, Dean._

A small part of him tells him he should be thankful for what he has, that big dysfunctional family he found in the most unlikely of places, all those people worming their way into his heart and his life, sticking around through all that happened. It’s a miracle, is what it is, and he should be content.

He’s not. Can’t be.

He runs a hand down his face to clear his thoughts.

“So what now?”

They’ve talked about this. Jack had asked him to wait, to give him some time to find out the best way to handle this. And Dean trusted him enough to stay put. Mostly because he didn’t want to screw up their slim chances by just confronting the Empty. He _did_ learn a thing or two over the years, even if some people would disagree.

“Back to plan A,” Jack says, a defeated look on his face. He seems to consider talking Dean out of it, but only opens his mouth and closes it again. _Good call_. Adrenaline’s already rising inside Dean’s veins, the need to _move_ and _do something_ almost overwhelming.

_Fucking finally._

Dean is already over by the table, grabs a piece of paper, – a shopping list –, and scribbles a quick note to Sam. He’s bad at goodbyes, always was. And Sam knew this would happen if Jack came up empty just like he knew Dean would never let Sam come with. He’ll cope.

Dean’s shoulder pops when he straightens again. He’s not getting any younger here, literally.

“Let’s do it.”

Jack doesn’t seem happy, but he follows Dean to the library, opens the portal and stares into the black space for a long minute. “I really wish I could help,” he says. What he doesn’t say is that he wants Cas back too, that he, too, can’t let it stand, and that’s why he helps Dean on this suicide mission.

“Well, uhm,” Dean starts, not sure how to handle this moment. In the end he opts for a murmured _thank you_ and steps through the portal, not looking back. He feels naked without his gun and his knife, but they’ll be of no use where he’s going. He left both on the table, next to the note, next to the keys for the impala.

The darkness envelopes him when the portal closes, slowly cutting him off from the world.

The last thing Dean hears is Jack’s whisper.

“Please bring him back.”

He will. Or he’ll die trying.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on tumblr. I'm [procasdeanating](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com/) over there.


End file.
